Shadows by Jessica B.

Our twins,Our clones,We may not lay our greasy hands upon them.They are the copier of the earth,Placing darkness even when the sun shows its face.The cool when even if it is a sweating summer day.They mock,They taunt our shape with their sick humor,Making us see what we are not.Tall, short, fat, skinny.They are the elusive foxes of obscurity.To them we are nothing more than a piece of lackluster clay,Waiting to be molded into a figure.They guffaw at the comical silhouette.Yet we do not object to their figures of gloom.Is it because we can't?What if we could?Would we?Photo credit: dan from freedigitalphotos.net